


A Tiny Part of History

by Highly_Illogical



Series: Kowalski Family Snapshots [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Historical References, Marriage Proposal, Movie Night, Period-Typical Sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9647666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highly_Illogical/pseuds/Highly_Illogical
Summary: 1927. During and after a showing ofThe Jazz Singer, Queenie and Jacob share a historical moment... in more ways than one.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you're _trying_ to pay attention in class. I don't think you need to have seen the 1927 movie _The Jazz Singer_ to understand this, but the plot is available [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Jazz_Singer).

Coming up with new date venues was always a bit of a struggle for Jacob. If you asked him, it was already incredible enough that he and a woman like Queenie were dating at all—but now that he knew what she _was_ , it was even worse. What did he have to offer when she had the world at her fingertips, or maybe at the tip of her wand? A part of him still held his breath waiting for the day she would simply get bored and disappear as though she’d never been there at all. Except this time, she wouldn’t take the memories away, and she’d leave a large, Queenie-shaped hole at his very core.

But so far, boredom seemed the last thing on Queenie’s mind. All the secrecy only added a layer of excitement: having a sensible little voice in the back of their minds saying that they really shouldn’t be doing this made them feel like characters in some cheap romance novel, whispering like a pair of youngsters at their first brush with love as though even the walls had ears.

And of course, there was the matter of _how_ they spent their precious little time: keeping their relationship away from MACUSA’s prying eyes meant they had no access to any of the popular magical locations she might have liked to frequent if her other half had been a wizard—and that, in turn, meant they had to resort to ‘doing No-Maj things’, and the task of figuring out what those things were fell upon him. For once, he was the expert.

“You know, honey, I’ve realized something.”

“Hmm? And what would that be?”

Oh, please, she knew exactly what it was. Still, he appreciated that little game she played—pretending not to know sometimes, just to even the playing field.

“We have more occasions to celebrate than your average couple. The day we first met, our first kiss, the day we met _again_ , our _second_ first kiss, and the day I realized the last two weren’t firsts at all, for example.” Heat crept up in his cheeks at the sheer weirdness of what he’d just said. “Does that make sense?”

“In its own way. Just like us.”

He felt a peculiar warmth at that. It was a darn good summary of what they had.

“Just like us,” he parroted. “And speaking of us, the anniversary of our first meeting is coming up.”

“Anything special planned?” she asked, the word _special_ thick with meanings that made his heart beat faster. And as a matter of fact, the answer was yes: he’d been planning this in minute detail for some time now, and it was, as they said, make it or break it.

He’d expressed concern, just once, about the fact that it was impossible to hide anything from her, and she’d looked worried (“Why would you want to do that?”), but he’d been quick to wipe the frown off her pretty face by adding that not all things he might have to hide were necessarily bad: all he wanted was the pleasure of preparing her a surprise every once in a while, or springing some good news on her without his mind screaming it before he spoke, and this just happened to be one of those times.

_I try really hard not to pry most of the time, sweetie,_ she’d explained patiently. _And it might help if you think of something else._ Yeah, right. Easy for her to say. His stupid brain seemed unable to grasp even such a simple concept: trying to think of something else was a sure-fire way to think about _it_. But now… now it was time to stop thinking and start doing.

“Dress nicely, babe—we’re going to the movies.”

Queenie giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh, that thing that’s like looking at a wizarding photo that tells a story?” She planted a kiss on his lips without warning, and Jacob was struck by the errant thought that if these were the rewards, they should go to the movie theater more often. “I love it, I love it, I love it!”

He must have done something really good to deserve her. That was the thing with Queenie—he lived in constant fear that he was too plain, not exciting enough, but life on his side of the world held an exotic flavor to her that he just couldn’t see. The suggestions he made with a tremble in his voice, half-expecting dismissal, were met with a melodic laugh and a delighted sparkle in her eyes more easily found in a child than in a grown woman.

He’d often wondered _how_. How did she stay so pure, so innocent, when she’d seen the ugliest, darkest depths man could sink to? How did she keep smiling? How was she still sane, for that matter? But those, he thought selfishly, were considerations for another day. It was like the rest of her magic: he didn’t have to know how it worked, it just did.

And now for the surprise, or as much of it as he could hope for with a mind-reader in the room. “I’ll do you one better: this one has _sound_ , and I mean actual people talking.”

She stopped short. “Well, I’ll say! I think No-Majs have finally beaten us! No, wait—there are always Pensieves. Is it kind of like that now?”

“Uh, Pensi-what? Never mind. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

 

It was far from the first showing, but the movie theater was still packed with crowds exchanging curious comments about this newfangled invention while they waited for their turn to pay the twenty-five cents that would grant them admission.

Once inside, you could have heard a pin drop. Everyone was waiting for the magic to start: imagine that, actual spoken words! Wonders of the modern world, indeed. They didn’t need to know that two people in that particular audience were intimately familiar with a different sort of magic—and still, for all the amazing things Jacob had seen in his life, he had to agree that the silver screen held a kind of enchantment of its own, though experiencing it with your loved one by your side probably helped.

It didn’t take long for Queenie to nudge him discreetly. “Hey—think Jakie is short for Jacob?”

He shrugged and jerked his head towards the screen to call her attention back to it. “Could be, but we’ll miss the best parts if we talk.”

And then—sweet and clear as day, little Jakie was actually singing his heart out! These people were no strangers to music adding a little something to the movies, sometimes even live music performed right then and there as the plot unfolded silently before their eyes, but this, judging by the sudden eruption of stunned whispering, was different, this was so _clever_ , for the song to match the boy’s moving lips so well it was like he was singing it for them!

“How cute,” Queenie cooed at the little performer.

“Shush, we’re missing the song,” he chided gently, but he couldn’t help but smile at her. She’d be good with children one day—but no, that line of thinking was forbidden territory! Back to the movie, and fast.

“I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”

But her promise was short-lived, and for good reasons. He felt her recoil at the portrayal of Jakie’s father: “Mercy Lewis, is he serious about the whipping? I think I’m about to be sick.” He’d heard enough about the Second Salemers to know exactly why.

Not that Jacob didn’t have any considerations of his own to make, but one of the perks of having a girlfriend who knew exactly what you were thinking was that you could share your impressions without disturbing your neighbors. One look at the female lead’s fashionable blond coif and he’d already decided he didn’t care. He wasn’t the type of guy to moon over the latest movie stars, not when he had something better for himself.

But the best part by far was when the talking came, almost drowned in the crowd’s stunned reaction. It was all too easy to be swept up in the moment of collective insanity and join right in: for something produced by people without an ounce of magic, it was pretty impressive.

And no more fitting line could have been chosen: “Wait a minute, wait a minute, you ain't heard nothin' yet! Wait a minute, I tell ya!”. Jacob was left with the distinct impression that they’d done it on purpose—that he was talking to _them_ , not to the fictional audience wanting to hear him sing, and that they were to expect bigger and better things from this spectacular invention.

Amidst all the cheering and applause, Queenie’s hurried whisper of: “Oh, the things you No-Majs come up with!” went perfectly unheard.

 

Back at the bakery, safe behind a ‘Closed’ sign granting them some much-needed privacy, Jacob was a bundle of nerves.

“So, did you like it?”

“Oh, it was lovely! Movies are so refreshing.”

Well, that was a new one. He’d heard them described in a lot of ways, but ‘refreshing’ wasn’t one of them. “Refreshing? How?”

Queenie appeared to struggle with her words for a moment before finally explaining: “See, I’m so used to knowing what people are thinking that it’s completely new to see them up there on the screen and _not_ know. I can see what they’re doing, I can even hear what they’re saying, but since they’re not really there, I’m left guessing why they’re doing it and what comes next, just like everyone else!”

“I think I actually get that… kind of. And you know what? Jakie reminded me a little of myself, and not because of his name. He gets the best of both worlds at the end, just like me since I met you.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle and added: “Only, don’t expect me to sing that well.”

“Aww, Jacob, what a sweet thing to say!”

“It’s the honest truth. Hey, one more thing. Do you think this movie will go down in history?”

“I’m no Seer, but it might. And if it does, we’ll have been a part of it! Only a tiny part, but still, what better anniversary could I ask for?”

Time for phase two of his grand plan. His heart was hammering so hard it threatened to burst out of his chest. “Yes, well, um… what do you say we make it even sweeter?” _Smooth, Kowalski, real smooth._ “I, uh… made some improvements to those miniature Nifflers and I wanted to see what you think.”

He went to retrieve the small batch he’d intended to share. As he carried it back, his hands were shaking. _Think of something else, think of something else_. Strains of songs from the movie were circling madly in his head, and he clung to them like a desperate man. _I never saw the sun shinin' so bright, never saw things goin' so right… I just hope the words are fitting._

She nibbled on one of the pastries, and he could see the smile and the frown battling on her face.

“Um, Jacob, you’re the expert, but what are the improvements? This is good, but… it doesn’t really taste any different to me.”

“Trust me, they’re special.”

“If you say so, honey. I’m certainly not going to say no to more sweets!”

The first one was soon gone, and Queenie bit into the second one. She froze. This was it. No use pretending not to think about it anymore.

“Oh, _Jacob_ …”

“Uh-oh,” he said in a fake tone of surprise that would most definitely not earn him a place in the next popular movie. “Looks like the little thief has snatched something shiny. Why don’t we see what it is?”

Queenie had been right: the ‘improvements’ were an outright lie. But half-hidden in the perfectly ordinary (and now headless) Niffler was the very best ring he’d been able to afford by throwing himself into his work with the fire of a man toiling for a good cause, its small, square diamond somewhat softened by an ornate rose gold band that had screamed _Queenie_ to him the second he’d seen it, completely out of his depth as he was in the store with the sole company of a man prattling on and on about settings and cuts. He’d tuned out large chunks of the explanation in favor of imagining what Newt’s little critter would have done in there, if he were honest with himself—and that was when the idea of hiding it inside a baked Niffler had occurred to him. It felt like giving her his heart along with it: it was only fair that the two things he loved most in the world should come together. Silly as it was, this little ruse was meant to speak volumes. He was only a baker, not some tycoon ordering skyscrapers to be built with a snap of his bejeweled fingers, and he wasn’t prepared to sweep her off her feet and have her live in the lap of luxury like the queen she was in more than just her name, but he would do his best—and this was the beginning of his best.

Now, Jacob Kowalski wasn’t normally known for his fluid, graceful motions, unless they were the steps of a familiar recipe, but on this one occasion, he was down on his knee in the blink of an eye. There was nothing typical about the two of them – find a girl, court her, provide for her in sickness and in health, start a family, grow old together –, but so help him, he was going to have _one_ typical moment amidst all the magical madness.

“Queenie Goldstein, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She was still holding the half-eaten pastry, and there were tears in her eyes, and oh, how he ached to switch places and know the cause. Everything hinged on the words that would come next, and if he thought he’d been on edge waiting for Al Jolson to open his mouth, tsk! That was nothing. Not even a thousand jazz singers could compare to this.

“Oh, Jacob…” It was like a broken record. _Just say something, you’re killing me!_ “Yes, yes, yes!”

He wasn’t even sure he was breathing properly throughout the delicate operation, but he pulled the ring out of the soft dough and slipped it onto her finger, his own still trembling.

“Looks like I’ve managed to surprise you after all,” he said, feeling happy and stupid and who knew what else all at once.

“Actually… no,” answered Queenie with her usual disarming candor. “You’d been planning this for too long not to let it slip at some point.” She sniffled. “But nice try.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“Because, you silly, _wonderful_ man, knowing you’re thinking about it is one thing, hearing you say it is another. Who cares about making history when I can have this?”

**Author's Note:**

> Bear with me, I have quite a few things to say about my timid attempts at historical accuracy.
> 
> _The timing._ The inspiration for this piece came from hearing about _The Jazz Singer_ in a history of cinema class I’m currently attending. According to my professor, successful movies back then remained available in theaters for as long as six months, unlike today. Queenie and Jacob’s first meeting, judging by the snow on the streets and the decorations in the department store, is presumed to have happened in the time leading up to Christmas of 1926; the first release of _The Jazz Singer_ , the first-ever feature-length movie with synchronized sound, was on October 6th, 1927, in New York. Therefore, there was at least one theater in the city equipped with Vitaphone technology, and if my teacher is to be believed, it would still have been showing on their first anniversary.
> 
> _The price._ I pegged the entrance fee to the movie theater as twenty-five cents based on [this poster](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Jazz_Singer#/media/File:JazzsingerPP.jpg); other sources cite theaters charging fifty, so I could be wrong.
> 
> _The Jewish themes, or lack thereof._ The plot of _The Jazz Singer_ wouldn't be the same if the main character weren’t Jewish. I have seen many fanwriters portray the Goldstein sisters as Jewish based on their surname, and some extend it to Jacob, confirmed son of Polish immigrants with a biblical name and not-so-coincidentally offering challah bread in his bakery’s repertoire. This makes a lot of sense, and I’m in fact inclined to believe it. Some of you may be bothered by the lack of Jewish references in my story, but it’s deliberate. I understand that Jewish characters would be differently affected by the movie, but I only know the basics of their culture and I feel incapable of portraying a realistic reaction. I thought it safer and more respectful not to address it at all than to try and end up getting it grievously wrong. Furthermore, I was unable to find unanimous sources on what said reaction was at the time: according to my teacher, the Jewish community did not take kindly to the use of their traditional hymns in the movie, while Wikipedia states that “The film received favorable reviews in both the Jewish press and in African American newspapers such as the Baltimore _Afro-American_ , the _New York Amsterdam News_ , and the _Pittsburgh Courier_.”
> 
> _Blackface performing._ Speaking of African American reaction, I also chose not to have Queenie and Jacob comment on the fact that the newly christened ‘Jack Robin’ performed in blackface. While the practice is considered racist nowadays, my research indicates that it was fairly normal in the 1920s and would not have appeared offensive, at least to the No-Maj half of the pair (Jacob is still of Caucasian descent and may have fallen for it, as much as we would love to imagine him as a man ahead of his time, calling his own prejudice into question thanks to his contact with wizards). Racism in the wizarding world works in a different way, and I do believe Queenie, at least, would have had something to say against the ethnic stereotypes perpetuated on stage such as the ‘darky’ and ‘mammy’ figures, the latter of which is even featured in one of the movie’s songs: let’s not forget that Seraphina Picquery was a woman of color in a position of power, basically everything that couldn’t happen on the No-Maj side back then. The story did have an early version in which both Jolson’s blackface scenes and the Jewish themes were briefly discussed, but I found they drew attention away from the characters and weakened the writing, turning it into too much of a play-by-play commentary of _The Jazz Singer_ : this is a fanfiction, not an essay for my professor to grade, so, again, it’s a conscious choice. I’ll leave it up to you: should I tag ‘Period-Typical Racism’ because they don’t bat an eye, or should I have used the tag only if they’d openly found it funny?
> 
> _The engagement ring._ Here (finally!) is what it looks like:
> 
>  [](https://s1253.photobucket.com/user/Martina_Buffa/media/engagement%20ring_zpsuabw6ttb.png.html)
> 
> Designed with the aid of [Brilliant Earth](http://www.brilliantearth.com/). 
> 
>   _Jacob’s view of marriage and courtship._ The ‘Period-Typical Sexism’ tag is there for a reason. I know Queenie can fend for herself with her own paid job, doesn’t particularly need a provider and is a million miles away from a damsel in distress, and in his heart of hearts, he probably does too, but the thoughts he expresses on the matter are consistent with how I think he may have been raised.


End file.
